Haunting You
by apiratesmile
Summary: Patrick's daughter is watching him with his new family from beyond the grave. Oneshot.


Who is she?

Why does she have my curls? My half-way smile?

Why are you twirling her around like you do for me, Daddy?

Who is she?

I watch shyly from the doorway, leaning away from the frame with curiosity and longing. Your back was toward me and hunched forward. I debated sneaking behind you and throwing my arms over your eyes, begging you to guess who it was-but then I saw what is was that held your attention. A little girl shifted to lay her head tiredly on your shoulder and you let her, whispering secret words to her in your soft way.

She must have been my age, or what was once my age. Her round cheeks were flushed in happy contentment and her blue doll eyes lingered listlessly over the room, as she allowed my father's words to quietly lull her. It was infuriating to watch.

What was he cuddling her for, when his own daughter was standing not ten feet from him?

I childlishly stomped my foot, not caring if they heard but knowing they could not. At least I though they couldn't. Whoever this imposter girl was, she had excellent hearing. Her attention was pulled from my father's voice towards the doorway where I stood fuming. Our eyes met and I felt like I was staring back at myself. Those were my eyes! My cheeks! My ears! What was mere seconds felt like centuries as we stared, caught up in an unameable spell. But the trance was broken when her tiny lips broke into a smile. An audacious, taunting smile.

Oh to be whole. To be solid for just a few precious moments. A few seconds would be all I needed to throttle her little neck with my little hands, to pull out the blonde curls that were mine by right of inheritance. If my lungs could take in air once more, I would use that breath to scream. So you would know Daddy, that your real daughter was right here! Right behind you. If you would just turn around, you would not have to settle for this imposter.

You got up then, lifting her easily with you. "Come on Tess, Momma should be home soon."

Good. Maybe her mother will take her away. It's a faint hope though. Your arms are wrapped so tightly around her, that it seems you will never let go. Did you ever hold _me _that close? I really can't remember.

A new feeling clawed through me. Bitterness. I had never felt it before. For what did a five year old ever have to be bitter about? But now...

"I hear her!" The girl squealed, turning her head to the door. And sure enough, a slender woman with dark hair slid hastily through the door to escape the winter chill. If I were really watching her, I suppose I would have noted her beauty, her confidence but I didn't. I was to engrossed and enraged by the look on your face. You looked like the woman was walking in to hand you the world. If I were solid, I would have stuck out my leg to trip her as she walked towards you. Lucky her.

I watched with helplessness as you wrapped an arm around her. Your family complete. It was like you no longer noticed you were missing one daughter, one wife. I had to turn away, too disgusted to watch you lean in toward her with a wide smile and sweep her into a kiss. How could you be so happy?

_I stared at my mother curiously as she paused in our game, her attention turned to the door._

_"Do you hear that Charlotte?" She said with a wide-eyed smile. I set my doll down and tried to listen. "Daddy's home."_

_I flew to the door, hoping to get there before him. Making sure to stand in a place he would see, I urged my muscles to be still as I froze into a pose similar to a statue I had seen in the park. A few moments later, he entered with his boundless energy on his heels. I could not help but smile, quickly hiding it away when he turned to look at me._

_He cocked his head in confusion, running a hand through his curls. "Angela?" He called._

_My mother sauntered in to greet him, giving me a conspiratorial wink as she passed. "Yes dear," she said in a stage voice._

_"Where is Charlotte and when did we get such a lovely statue?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her as he looked around the living room._

_"That's funny," my mother said. "I was sure I just saw her."_

_I tried not to giggle. I really tried. But I couldn't stop them from bubbling through my teeth._

_"Did you hear something?" He asked, perking his head up._

_"Why I think it came from that new satue," she said with false suprise._

_"Don't be ridiculous," he said shaking his head. "Statues don't giggle."_

_"Well it couldn't have been Charlotte."_

_"No of course not," he agreed. With a playful stride, he circled me, moving into my blind spot._

_"And of course statues are not ticklish either." That was the last sound I heard, above my own laughter, as crafty fingers tickled my waist, forcing me to break down into helpless fits of airless laughter._

_"Oh look Angela," my father said, clearly pleased with himself. "It turns out this wasn't a statue at all!"_

_He lifted me into his arms and I wrapped my arms around his neck. Leaning his mough to my ear he whispered, "Nice try, Blue-eyes."_

_I snuggled closer to him and closed my eyes. Perfectly happy._

While you were eating dinner with your new family, I explored. Walking casually through each room. It was a new house and nothing like the one I grew up in. It was small but cozy. Just enough for a family of three. Everthying was done in a taste unfamiliar to me. My mother preferred symmetry and everything in its place, but this woman, while perhaps precise, seemed to decorate under the assumption that if it was comfertable it belonged in the house.

I walked into your room last. It was dark but that did not bother me anymore. I dragged my fingers across the bed covers as I inspected the room. There was hardly anything speciel about it. Nothing there to peak my interest-except...

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a reflection on the nightstand. Moving in closer, I realized it was a picture. A picture of me and of mother and you. It was obviously set on your side. Years of sleepless nights and crawling into your bed to escape the monsters had taught me you always preferred the left of the bed. It was set just right to capture your attention every morning.

So you hadn't forgotten me. Of course not. How could you? I haunt you every day.


End file.
